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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28693017">seeing the thread</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardeiia/pseuds/ardeiia'>ardeiia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Kuroo Tetsurou - Freeform, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Red String of Fate, Red thread au, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, haikyuu Kuroo, kuroo x reader - Freeform, soft, will format properly later too lazy rn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:53:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,874</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28693017</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardeiia/pseuds/ardeiia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>↬ genre: angst, fluff, soulmate au</p><p>↬ summary: in a world where everyone can see their red threads when their soulmate’s near, it seems your soulmate can’t see the thread that runs from your pinky finger to his. at the age of 6, you don’t understand what it means for you.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bokuto Koutarou &amp; Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou &amp; Kuroo Tetsurou &amp; Reader, Bokuto Koutarou &amp; Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou &amp; Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>seeing the thread</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>cross-posted to tumblr @mehreya</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><div class="text-post">
  <p></p>
  <div class="captext">
    <p>the very first time you see your red thread is in a playground, at the age of six.</p>
    <p>you’re a bubbly little girl, bright smiles and playful laughter. (h/c) hair always wound up in a short little high ponytail; very little deters you.</p>
    <p>the playground you’re always keen on visiting is a small public park – a little red sandbox to the side, a set of blue plastic swings in the middle and a tiny pink merry-go-round, complete with little yellow ducklings and white rabbits, is off to one side.</p>
    <p>next to it is a seesaw, light brown in color, but painted on with childish scribbles and doodles, depicting fantasies of dragons, knights and princesses, mermaids and fairies, ones that can only exist in a child’s mind.</p>
    <p>none of these are your favorite however; no, your favorite, like so many other children, is the colorful plastic sides on the right side of the playground.</p>
    <p>there are twisting and winding lime green colored slides, ones that make your tummy twist and turn, but ultimately end with you shrieking in laughter and wiggling your toes as you slide down.</p>
    <p>then there’s closed tube slides, a dark purple – your favorite spot to hide is in their comfortable tunnels, wedged in between the slide’s walls. (you always end up stopping the traffic of children, for which you are on the receiving end of all their complaints.)</p>
    <p>but your very favorite out of all these slides is the tall, majestic, deep orange slide in the center of them all. you’ve always been warned not to go on that slide, for it is far too fast and too tall for someone of your age and stature.</p>
    <p>never one for rules, whenever your mother has her head turned away, you run up the steps leading to the slide, fast as you can; and go sliding down with a loud squeal, little arms waving haphazardly.</p>
    <p>your mother jolts every time she hears, but shakes her head fondly; reprimanding you never does any good – you simply never learn.</p>
    <p>it’s on a day like this – in the very same little park you always visit, that you catch your first glimpse of the red silken thread from legends of old.</p>
    <p>the playground is a little quieter today; a lack of abundance in the numbers of the children that usually gather.</p>
    <p>your mother is busy talking to someone on the phone – presumably one of her friends; you can hear her gossiping about someone and their son all the way from the merry-go-round, which is only a few feet away from the bench your mother is sitting on.</p>
    <p>apparently, from what you can hear, the son fell in love with someone whose red thread didn’t curl around his little finger; someone who wasn’t his soulmate.</p>
    <p>your six-year-old self doesn’t understand why this is such a bad thing – at that point, you’re pretty much clueless about the social workings of the world.</p>
    <p>no longer interested in your mother’s rambling, you wander away from her and make your way to your beloved slides, heading to the purple tube slides instead of your usual spot at the tall, orange slides.</p>
    <p>the reason you’d chosen to play with the purple slides today is because of the red thread that has supposedly always been curled tightly around your pinky finger; it is visible today and is now trailing up the entrance of the purple tube slide to the left.</p>
    <p>entranced, you’d gasped when you saw the deep red thread; wide (e/c) eyes lighting up with wonder. you’d tugged the red string a little, but seeing no response, you’d frowned and instead decided to go search for the thread and the person yourself.</p>
    <p>all you knew about the red thread around your finger was from what your mother had told you – that it was a magical thread, and it would lead you to a very special person.</p>
    <p>“mommy, how am I going to know they’re a special person?” you’d asked once.</p>
    <p>“the red thread on your finger will appear when they’re near you and it will lead to them – the end of the thread will be wrapped around their finger.”</p>
    <p>upon seeing your frown – one that said you had many more questions – your mother had laughed softly and gathered you up in her arms.</p>
    <p>“you’ll just <em>know</em>, honey. the thread is magical, so it can pass through things, and it can stretch and tangle. but it won’t ever break. you’ll find your soulmate – I promise, hun.”</p>
    <p>holding your mother true to her word, you’d decided to follow the thread as soon as you saw it, keeping your left hand out in front of you to prevent the thread from tangling too much as you’d walked toward the slides.</p>
    <p>your mother had still been busy on the phone, so you’d neglected to tell her of your latest discovery – scurrying to the slides instead, curiosity and anticipation winning out over the need to tell your mother about your thread.</p>
    <p>now crawling inside the dark tubes, knees kissing the plastic, the flat of your hands brace against the plastic floor as you go. curiously, the red thread you can now see hasn’t gotten caught under your knees even once; it disappears sometimes, but always comes back, the red of the thread on the plastic floor highlighting the purple of the slide.</p>
    <p>though the thread hasn’t been a problem, the dress you’re wearing certainly has been. you scrunch your nose in annoyance, groaning when your dress catches under your knee for the billionth time.</p>
    <p>the only reason you’re wearing this dress is because earlier that day, you’d had to attend a formal event with your mother, who had coaxed you into wearing a pretty little peach-colored dress with pastel light yellow roses lining the hem.</p>
    <p>normally, you wouldn’t have minded wearing such a cute dress; but your mother had promised she’d take you to the park today (the very same bait she had used to coax you into wearing the said dress) and on account of that fact, you’d thought wearing a dress would hinder your playing ability.</p>
    <p>and you’d been right.</p>
    <p>still, it was a little too late to change clothes now; so you huff and pull up your dress, moving forward relentlessly, only stopping when you reach the middle of the tube. the part of the slide you’re in right now is horizontal - the flat before the curve of the slide, where it dips down vertically.</p>
    <p>hearing the sound of something scraping against the polymer walls of the slide, you startle when you find you’re not the only one occupying this particular tube.</p>
    <p>there is a boy with black hair, wearing the same startled expression you must be wearing; staring right back at you with wide, hazel eyes.</p>
    <p>the first thing you think is: his hairstyle looks weird.</p>
    <p>the second is not something you think but observe – the connection of the thread.</p>
    <p>he backs away cautiously as you crawl near him; but you’re too preoccupied to notice his reaction – too busy focusing on the red thread you can see around his left little finger.</p>
    <p>the very same one that leads to your own finger.</p>
    <p>so, your six-year-old self concludes, this must be the special person mommy was talking about.</p>
    <p>excited to have finally met him, your face breaks out into a huge smile, and the boy’s expression eases up a little at the sight of it.</p>
    <p>you go to introduce yourself, but refrain from commenting on his hair (he looks a little shy, and you don’t want to scare your special person off, now do you?)</p>
    <p>“i’m (surname) (name)!” you say, still beaming, holding out your left hand in the hopes the boy will finally notice that he and you share the same thread.</p>
    <p>so far, he hasn’t even glanced toward it. (you’ve always been a little too observant for a six-year-old. some say it’s a bad thing, some say it’s a good thing; you fare just well.)</p>
    <p>he looks off to the side nervously before looking back at you, eyes downturned a little as he says quietly, “uh, kuroo tetsurou, nice to meet you.”</p>
    <p>he still hasn’t said anything about the thread, so cocking your head to the side in confusion, you take the plunge and ask, “kuroo-kun, can’t you see the thread?”</p>
    <p>he looks up at you in confusion, lips pulled down in what you can guess is nervousness?</p>
    <p>“um, what thread?” he asks slowly, looking up at you hesitantly.</p>
    <p>you think he’s playing with you; or maybe he’s stupid. you ask again, a little more impatiently.</p>
    <p>“the red thread on your finger, silly. look!”</p>
    <p>you point aggressively toward his finger, and he looks down, following your gaze.</p>
    <p>you wait in anticipation as he squints and does something with his eyes. you feel the urge to giggle at the weird things he’s doing with his eyes, but it is overshadowed by the feelings of anticipation and nervousness swimming in your stomach.</p>
    <p>kuroo lifts his head cautiously, eyeing you warily, backing away a few steps.</p>
    <p>“there’s nothing there.”</p>
    <p>dread and confusion replace anticipation and nervousness.</p>
    <p>your own voice softer, you ask, “really? nothing at all?”</p>
    <p>he still looks confused, as if you’re talking about a concept so unimaginable he can’t wrap his head around it.</p>
    <p>he shakes his head.</p>
    <p>you rub your eyes harshly – maybe the lack of light is making you see your thread when it’s not there?</p>
    <p>blinking away the shapes that form in the aftermath of the dark behind your eyes, you find the red thread still there, entwined around your pinkie and leading to his.</p>
    <p>kuroo is still staring at you warily, as if you’ve grown two heads.</p>
    <p>you don’t know what to make of this.</p>
    <p>six-year-olds are not equipped for situations like this. this is the exact opposite of what you were expecting.</p>
    <p>kuroo’s name rings through the tube slide then, the sound bouncing off of polymer tube walls and echoing through.</p>
    <p>he turns and glances back, then bows his head toward you a little, a small smile on his face as he bids you a still somewhat nervous farewell.</p>
    <p>you watch him go quietly, then make your own way down the slide. all the while, you are silent, not sure what to make of what had just happened.</p>
    <p>it seems your mother is finished talking; she’s gazing off into the distance, a faraway smile on her face.</p>
    <p>“mommy.”</p>
    <p>at the sound of your voice, she turns, the smile on her face giving way to a weaker one, worried at the look on your face and the quiet tone of your voice.</p>
    <p>(her little girl has never been so quiet.)</p>
    <p>“sweetie? are you okay??”</p>
    <p>“mommy, I saw the thread,” you say, walking up to her almost stiffly; coming to a stop in front of the bench she’s sitting on.</p>
    <p>you can no longer see the red thread. your right hand wraps around your left, your right pointer finger rubbing over the now vacant pinkie on your left hand</p>
    <p>she tugs you toward her gently, arms holding onto your own, voice gentle.</p>
    <p>“honey, that’s great! why…do you look so sad though?”</p>
    <p>“he couldn’t see it, mommy. he couldn’t see the thread.”</p>
    <p>your mother’s expression falls, and she encapsulates you into her arms tenderly, hugging you tightly. you let her hug you, arms at your side.</p>
    <p>(you don’t understand what’s wrong.)</p>
    <p>the first time you see your thread is not a particularly fond memory of yours.</p>
    <p>
      
    </p>
    <p>the second time you see your red thread is in your first year of university.</p>
    <p>it appears in front of you when you go to cheer on your cousin’s varsity volleyball team.</p>
    <p>honestly, while this university hadn’t been your first choice, your mother had encouraged you to attend.</p>
    <p>her sole reason being that your cousin’s presence graced the walls of the very same university.</p>
    <p>bokuto, for as long as you can remember, has always been energetic. he always seemed to be bouncing or jumping or just <em>moving</em>, in any form.</p>
    <p>it was no surprise then, when he took up athletics. basketball, football, you name it. but the one he ultimately stuck with had been volleyball.</p>
    <p>and as such, during high school, whenever he visited, during summer vacation trips to Shinagawa, you would always end up being dragged into playing volleyball with him.</p>
    <p>you’d always deny him initially, wanting to stay inside with your sketchbooks and pencils, and just sketch hot guys off the internet. (solely artistic practice, you’d say.)</p>
    <p>but bokuto would be smiling wide, huge owl-like eyes pleading. his grins and laughter were infectious, and so you could never really refuse him.</p>
    <p>though you didn’t know the rules well, he’d say it didn’t matter; all you had to do was block his ball from over the net.</p>
    <p>your little volleyball games would always end with the two of you sprawled over the grass, underneath the volleyball net and blue skies, eyes closed.</p>
    <p>as far as you could remember, all your memories with bokuto were ones that were fond.</p>
    <p>so, although you’d pretended to be annoyed at the idea of going to school with your cousin, you’d decided going to tokyo university with bokuto would be fun.</p>
    <p>maybe not that fun, you think later, when you find yourself, in your second semester of your first year of university, hauling ass to make it to bokuto’s volleyball match in time, while lugging around his geometry textbook.</p>
    <p>he’d forgotten it at your shared apartment earlier that day, although you’d reminded him the night before to put it in his bag.</p>
    <p>for someone two years older, and in their second last year before complete adulthood, bokuto was far from the image of an adult.</p>
    <p>sighing, you check the phone for the time and quicken your pace when you realize the match is going to start in a few minutes.</p>
    <p>apparently, you’re not the only one in a hurry – as you make your way to the large gymnasium to the left side of your university, someone hurries past you, brushing your shoulder and almost making you drop the geometry textbook in the process.</p>
    <p>there’s a flash of black and red.</p>
    <p>dizziness.</p>
    <p>slightly disoriented, though it hadn’t been a very powerful nudge, you pause for a second, clutching the textbook closer, as if that will help you orient yourself.</p>
    <p>the guy who’d bumped into you is now miles ahead, but that doesn’t stop you from shouting after him in indignation.</p>
    <p>“hey! watch where you’re going!”</p>
    <p>all you get in reply is a muffled “sorry!” over his shoulder, and then he’s gone, and the black of his hair disappears, along with the fading of the red.</p>
    <p>it takes you a minute to organize your thoughts.</p>
    <p>his hair was black, but whatever he was wearing was a deep gray-ish color.</p>
    <p>so where did the red come from?</p>
    <p>and then the realization hits you.</p>
    <p>your red thread.</p>
    <p>you stare at your left hand for a good few minutes, but no matter how much you do, the thread does not appear around your pinky finger again.</p>
    <p>you snap out of your staring when the sound of a whistle breaks through the silence of the grounds surrounding the gymnasium.</p>
    <p>…you’re the only one still standing outside evidently.</p>
    <p>you shake your head to collect yourself, (h/c) strands of hair flying about, and then stride into the gymnasium hurriedly, the gloss of wooden floors and the shine of bright lights winking at you.</p>
    <p>unfortunately, at this point, there are no seats left at the front, and the only available one you can find is near the back.</p>
    <p>ah well. at least you have a seat.</p>
    <p>you settle in, making yourself comfortable in the metallic seat, the textbook in your hands falling with a thunk to the side of your seat.</p>
    <p>it seems you’ve arrived halfway in to the match, just after half-time.</p>
    <p>the game passes by with you watching fixatedly (even with your limited knowledge, the match is beyond intense), and the set point has you at the very edge of your seat.</p>
    <p>bokuto is gearing up to spike, and you watch, eyes wide, as he jumps, back arching gracefully as his hand slams down onto the ball, changing the angle of his hand at the last minute.</p>
    <p>a cross-shot, you remember him telling you.</p>
    <p>the ball practically <em>slams</em> down onto the wooden floor on the other side of the net, and ricochets off the floor in a powerful bounce.</p>
    <p>the gymnasium erupts, loud and deafening roars of victory and triumph echoing around.</p>
    <p>you are one of the people shouting loudly and jumping up and down, the high of the match and the win taking over you.</p>
    <p>you watch bokuto hug his teammates with an excited smile, then make your way out the gym to wait for him, heaving the textbook back into your arms.</p>
    <p>soon enough, five minutes later, your phone rings with bokuto’s announcement of his arrival.</p>
    <p>you look up and are met with a head of monochrome hair as bokuto catches you in his arms, sweeping you up in his excitement.</p>
    <p>infectious.</p>
    <p>you laugh loudly along with him.</p>
    <p>“you won, you won!!”</p>
    <p>“we won!” he grins, setting you down and giving you a high-five.</p>
    <p>you hand the textbook off to him as he accepts it sheepishly, “mom and auntie have probably cooked a whole feast for you, so you better not spoil your appetite,” you look at him knowingly, and he groans in good fun.</p>
    <p>“how did you know I wanted to go out for snacks?”</p>
    <p>you cross your arms smugly, “you may <em>look</em> like the wise one, but I <em>am </em>the wise one.”</p>
    <p>he grins again and ruffles your hair.</p>
    <p>you’re just about to ask him about akaashi when a flash of black behind him catches your eye.</p>
    <p>there’s a group of three guys coming near you slowly, and as you watch them, red appears in your vision.</p>
    <p>your soulmate thread has appeared again, it seems.</p>
    <p>and it’s leading to the tall, black-haired boy in the middle.</p>
    <p>come to think of it, he does look familiar. exactly like the boy you’d met when you were younger. the same wacky hairstyle is still there, too, his hair springing up from one side of his head almost unnaturally.</p>
    <p>you’re still staring when he looks up and catches you, his mouth opening slightly in surprise.</p>
    <p>you look away immediately, suppressing the warmth rising to your cheeks, and nudge bokuto.</p>
    <p>“hey bo, who’s that guy over there?”</p>
    <p>“where?”</p>
    <p>“the one with the weird-ass hair.”</p>
    <p>“oh, kuroo? he’s my teammate, why?”</p>
    <p>“…hmm, no reason.”</p>
    <p>bokuto wiggles his eyebrows, looking utterly ridiculous as he does.</p>
    <p>“is he your sooulmate?”</p>
    <p>“…no, his hair looks interesting. for drawing reference, you know.”</p>
    <p>thankfully, bokuto doesn’t catch on to the slight hesitation at the beginning of your sentence, but he does do something entirely stupid instead.</p>
    <p>“oi, kuroo!”</p>
    <p>(you facepalm - I didn’t tell you to call him over, bo.)</p>
    <p>“kuroo” strides over, his other two companions lingering behind and watching curiously.</p>
    <p>“ohoho, bokuto. what’s up?” he drawls in a laid-back sort of manner, hands in the pockets of his jersey shorts.</p>
    <p>his gaze switches from bokuto to you, and he eyes you inquisitively, looking at bokuto for elaboration on your identity, presumably.</p>
    <p>it seems he doesn’t remember you.</p>
    <p>but then again, you were only six-years-old.</p>
    <p>you squash down the slight feelings of disappointment, and smile at him as bokuto introduces you.</p>
    <p>“this is (name), she wants to draw your hair!” bokuto grins, slinging an arm around kuroo cheerfully.</p>
    <p>…not exactly how you’d put it, but it works.</p>
    <p>kuroo blinks in slight surprise, before an easy grin makes its way onto his face.</p>
    <p>he runs a hand through his hair, the black, inky strands sticking up as he grins at you, “sure, my hair is a natural work of art, isn’t it?”</p>
    <p>“don’t you spend hours each morning trying to gel it?” bokuto murmurs in what he thinks is a discreet manner, but what anyone else would say was a loud whisper.</p>
    <p>kuroo jams an elbow into bokuto’s side, still grinning at you as bokuto winces, you watching on in amusement.</p>
    <p>someone’s phone rings then, and bokuto whips his out, golden eyes lighting up with excitement and affection.</p>
    <p>“akaashi?” both you and kuroo speak at the same time, a knowing undertone lacing your question.</p>
    <p>both of you turn to each other in surprise, smiling half parts awkwardly and half parts fondly, because of course akaashi would be the first to call bokuto after his big match.</p>
    <p>bokuto smiles widely, holding the phone up to his ear and greeting akaashi while simultaneously hugging kuroo with one arm. he drops a quick kiss on your hair and then bounds away, chattering into the phone excitedly.</p>
    <p>“akaashi, I won! we won! can you believe it!? my spike was…”</p>
    <p>you and kuroo stare after his retreating figure, and then turn toward each other, you tugging the hem of your shirt, kuroo running a hand through his hair and clearing his throat.</p>
    <p>you look up at him just as he’s about to say something, but he’s interrupted before he can voice whatever he’s thinking.</p>
    <p>“oi, kuroo! we’re gonna head on downtown then!” one of his friends, the one with a gold streak through his dark hair shouts, while the other with light brown hair waves.</p>
    <p>kuroo nods toward them, grinning and holding up a hand in farewell, as you too, smile awkwardly in their direction.</p>
    <p>he swivels back to you, the slight evening breeze that had just picked up ruffling his inky hair and making it even more messier.</p>
    <p>the fading sunlight highlights the amber flecks in his eyes, and from your spot, not even two feet away, you can count the exact number of amber specks (five).</p>
    <p>the red thread tying you together seems to be glowing faintly under the diminishing sunlight.</p>
    <p>and then a thought occurs to you.</p>
    <p>“hey, aren’t you the guy who bumped into me earlier?” you cross your arms, cocking an eyebrow, a playful smile on your face.</p>
    <p>“ah, yeah, sorry about that again. I was in a hurry to get back before halftime was over.” kuroo messes up his hair sheepishly, the inky strands falling in front of his face in the most alluring way.</p>
    <p>you can’t help but stare.</p>
    <p>“it’s chill, no worries,” you’re still staring; his hair getting ruffled in the breeze is making him look ten times more attractive, and also like a model drawing reference.</p>
    <p>“so,” kuroo clears his throat, smiling at you somewhat amusedly, “do you wanna go to a café or something, so you can,” he holds up two fingers each to imitate speech marks, “sketch my hair?”</p>
    <p>you glance away awkwardly, smoothing back your hair as you and kuroo start walking away from the gym.</p>
    <p>“your hair would be interesting to sketch, but I don’t have anything to sketch with,” you say, shrugging, but then a thought occurs to you, “hold on, does that count as a date?”</p>
    <p>“I know you’d want it to be,” kuroo winks, his strides matching yours exactly, despite his superior height.</p>
    <p>the red thread between you sways softly, and though you glance toward it now and then, kuroo doesn’t.</p>
    <p>at all.</p>
    <p>there is no indication that he is able to see. you quell the rising panic that you had stored away for years, and laugh nervously instead.</p>
    <p>kuroo walks a little closer, “do you still wanna go to the café anyway? or should I walk you home?”</p>
    <p>you say the first thing that comes to mind, some of your nervousness easing up at his reply.</p>
    <p>“I like how you’ve made sure to include yourself in both options.”</p>
    <p>“I knew you’d like it better that way,” he winks again, and you laugh, shaking your head.</p>
    <p>“is that how you get all the ladies?”</p>
    <p>“bold of you to assume I have any,” amusement glints in his eyes as he watches you laugh, shoulders shaking.</p>
    <p>“dude, you do know you just self-sabotaged yourself, right?”</p>
    <p>kuroo shrugs, his arm brushing yours in the process, the heat from it unfamiliar but at the same time, so familiar.</p>
    <p>he smiles as he looks sideways at you, amber-hazel eyes warm, “made you laugh, didn’t I?”</p>
    <p>you fall silent, only offering up a smile in return.</p>
    <p>the red thread becomes shorter as kuroo walks even closer, but it’s still as deep red as ever, glinting almost mockingly in the dying light.</p>
    <p>you reach your shared apartment then, and pause, standing in front of it. the university dorms are a little father ahead, just down the street.</p>
    <p>the lights in your apartment building are bright, and you shield your eyes slightly as you turn to face kuroo.</p>
    <p>“so,” kuroo begins, awkwardly now; a visible contrast from his early suaveness. it’s endearing, watching him with the lightest dusting of pink on his cheeks as his eyes dart in between you and the buildings nervously.</p>
    <p>so jarringly different from his earlier smoothness and winking, but it makes him all the more cuter in your eyes.</p>
    <p>(how are you already finding him so cute? it’s been only fifty minutes.)</p>
    <p>you shift your stance, watching him with mirthful eyes and a patient smile.</p>
    <p>he runs his hand through his hair again – it seems to be a nervous habit, you note.</p>
    <p>“so, are you and bokuto, you know…” he trails off, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jersey shorts, lifting his varsity jersey slightly so he can do so.</p>
    <p>vaguely distracted as you watch him do so, you don’t catch on to his entire question, “sorry, what?”</p>
    <p>he glances up and to the side, and then turn back to you determinedly, though there is hesitant nervousness in his amber-hazel orbs.</p>
    <p>another contrast; the juxtaposition of his stance and his eyes.</p>
    <p>endearing.</p>
    <p>he clears his throat, “are you and bokuto dating?”</p>
    <p>you stare at him – how on earth did he get that idea?</p>
    <p>oh. maybe the hug and the kiss.</p>
    <p>yeah, maybe that.</p>
    <p>you hurry to clear up the misunderstanding, “no, no, he’s my cousin!”</p>
    <p>kuroo snaps his fingers, expression clearing up, “oh, the one he shares an apartment with?”</p>
    <p>you nod, and he smiles, “that’s good.”</p>
    <p>you raise an eyebrow teasingly but make no comment, and he moves forward quickly, “you should come watch another one of our games.”</p>
    <p>those amber-hazel eyes are trained on you, his smile warm.</p>
    <p>you surprise yourself with what you say next, but it comes out without much thinking (you’re too focused on his striking gaze), “sure, and then we could go for that café thing?”</p>
    <p>his eyes widen a little, and then the corner of his mouth lifts a little more, smiling down at you, amused, “for sure, the café thing.”</p>
    <p>you laugh quietly, walking away from him, “yeah, yeah, bye, kuroo.”</p>
    <p>you turn to wave at him, and he waves back, watching you go with a smile.</p>
    <p>the feeling of his warm gaze lingers as you walk away, and you watch the red thread fade again as he starts walking away.</p>
    <p>you enter the building and greet the doorman almost in a daze, making your way to your apartment.</p>
    <p>when you enter, bokuto is sitting on the couch and face-timing akaashi as they both type away at their laptops.</p>
    <p>you shake out of your daze, coming to a stop in front of him, hands on your hips.</p>
    <p>bokuto looks up sheepishly, the black-framed glasses he wears for studying falling down his nose slightly.</p>
    <p>“first off,” you start, “you just left me there! second, mom and auntie and the rest said they’ll be here in 20. third, hi, ‘kaashi, how you doing?”</p>
    <p>akaashi doesn’t get a chance to greet you back, because bokuto starts speaking immediately, looking at you like he knows something you don’t, “you and kuroo didn’t call me at all though.”</p>
    <p>you look off to the side, “that’s irrelevant.”</p>
    <p>he makes a face, wiggling his eyebrows as akaashi snorts quietly through the screen. you go to defend yourself, but before you can, bokuto springs up, shock settling on his features, “wait, did you say they’re going to be here in 20 minutes?”</p>
    <p>you nod, sighing as you maneuver around the mess of empty bags and plastic cans to the back of the sofa to wave at akaashi.</p>
    <p>“shit!” bokuto panics for a minute, flailing his arms around (as if that would solve anything), and then holds his iPad up to his face, “bye, ‘kaashi, gotta go, love ya!”</p>
    <p>you barely get in your wave to akaashi and glimpse his fond look of exasperation before bokuto slams the cover of the iPad down, hurriedly jumping off the couch and snatching up his papers and laptop.</p>
    <p>he looks toward you pleadingly, some of his papers falling out of his arms, “help me?”</p>
    <p>“nope, I already did my part this morning.” you shut him down casually, making your way inside your room and closing your door to the sound of bokuto’s agonized cries as he figures out how to work the vacuum cleaner.</p>
    <p>flopping down onto your bed, you put your left arm over your eyes and <em>think</em>.</p>
    <p>you let all the feelings that you’d been suppressing rise back to the surface again, and a long, weary sigh escapes you.</p>
    <p>kuroo doesn’t know about the thread; he can’t see it and you didn’t tell him.</p>
    <p><em>should</em> you tell him?</p>
    <p>you know he’s your soulmate, and in the fifty minutes you’d known him, you’re certain dating him would only come too easy for you.</p>
    <p>he seems sweet, funny, playful. essentially the perfect guy.</p>
    <p>but, you think, rolling over on your side, did you agree to go on a date with him because of the thread, or because you genuinely liked him apart from that, too?</p>
    <p>you rationalize that after so many years of hating the fact that he can’t see the red thread, or sometimes even hating him for not being able to, you wouldn’t have just accepted to go on a date with him if you genuinely didn’t want to.</p>
    <p>you know that it was wrong to hate him for something that wasn’t even his fault, and you’d stopped hating him a long time ago; but when you’d been younger, blaming and hating him and his inability to see your thread was the only way you knew to cope with the fact you might be soulmate-less.</p>
    <p>at least you know <em>he</em> likes you for you.</p>
    <p>in the end, you decide telling him is only the right thing to do – it’s not like it will change anything; your genuine feelings will still be there.</p>
    <p>the nagging voice of doubt and fear lingers at the back of your mind – what if, in the time that you’d grown up, kuroo’s thread was attached to another?</p>
    <p>after all, you’d never heard of anyone not having a thread, but you <em>had</em> heard of people’s threads connecting to someone who was their soulmate, but they hadn’t been their soulmate’s.</p>
    <p>there had been people whose soulmate’s thread lead to someone else.</p>
    <p>you didn’t want to find out whether you were one of those people.</p>
    <p>but, you reasoned, if he did have a different soulmate, then he would have been able to see their thread, and wouldn’t have asked you out on a date.</p>
    <p>(you push away all thoughts of “maybe he hasn’t met his soulmate yet” to the very back of your mind – you think it’s time you were optimistic, for once.)</p>
    <p>making up your mind, you snuggle into your bed, resting until your mother and aunt arrive, the sounds of bokuto’s panicked cleaning frenzy fading into the background.</p>
    <p>you’d decided you would tell kuroo if your relationship with him progressed to more than a few dates. it seemed like a logical decision, and the uneasiness coiled in your chest relaxed.</p>
    <p>everything would be fine.</p>
    <p> </p>
    <hr/>
    <p> </p>
    <p>the very last time you see your soulmate thread is a particularly painful memory.</p>
    <p>you’re now in your third year of university, and you and kuroo have been dating for two years.</p>
    <p>the café date had transitioned to a movie date, then a park date, a Netflix and chill date, and countless others.</p>
    <p>you’d kissed four dates in, and it had been one of the best in your life.</p>
    <p>you’d officially become a couple nine dates in, and bokuto had been overjoyed, for lack of better word, at the thought of kuroo being his brother-in-law.</p>
    <p>(“we’re gonna be actual bros, man!” bokuto fist-bumped kuroo, who smirked at you teasingly, watching in fond amusement as you choked on your drink at the insinuation of marriage. “bo, it’s been two months! jesus…”</p>
    <p>“what, are you saying you don’t want to marry me?” kuroo had pouted at you, feigning hurt. “wait, that’s not what I mean-!” he’d started cackling then, at the blush on your face and the frenzied look in your eyes as you defended yourself. you’d rolled your eyes and smacked him on the arm, “i hate you.”</p>
    <p>he’d grinned at you cheekily, amber-hazel eyes mirthful, “love you too, baby.”)</p>
    <p>despite all that, you still hadn’t told kuroo about the thread. you just…you just hadn’t found the right time. it was partially an excuse, but also the truth.</p>
    <p>every time you’d tried to tell him, something interrupted you, and you ended up chickening out.</p>
    <p>all the times you’d tried to tell him had gone a little bit like this:</p>
    <p>“hey, tets?” you’d been lying down on the beige couch in your apartment, legs sprawled over kuroo’s as he rested them on the coffee table in front of him.</p>
    <p>bokuto had gone on a date with akaashi, and it had been just you and kuroo that afternoon; so you’d decided to have yourselves a little study date.</p>
    <p>“yeah?” kuroo had looked over at you curiously, pausing in the midst of his typing.</p>
    <p>as soon as you’d started speaking, a loud rumbling sound cut through the peaceful silence that had been surrounding you, and had drained out what you’d been trying to say.</p>
    <p>kuroo had shook his head, “construction workers at it again. what were you saying, babe?”</p>
    <p>you’d smiled, shaking your head, “can we order indian today?”</p>
    <p>you and kuroo had discussed the topic of soulmates and the red thread, of course, one year into your relationship.</p>
    <p>that had been the perfect time to tell him.</p>
    <p>but kuroo had said that it didn’t really matter to him; he’d never seen his thread and he didn’t put much faith in the idea of soulmates anyway.</p>
    <p>you’d faltered; if he seemed fine without one, and you weren’t sure if you were his, would there really be any point in telling him?</p>
    <p>while you had been internally conflicting, kuroo had pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, and had told you he was going to shower.</p>
    <p>you’d let him go; though you’d wanted to finish the discussion, you didn’t know what to say and he had a class in a few minutes.</p>
    <p>now, two years in, you’d decided to hold off on telling him.</p>
    <p>you’d spent ages agonizing over this, the red thread whenever you were near tetsurou taunting you with its’ existence constantly. but you hadn’t been able to come to a decision at all, so you’d pushed it to the back of your mind as usual.</p>
    <p>(the back of your mind had become a very cluttered place, as a result.)</p>
    <p>the buzzing of your phone distracts you; it’s a message from tetsurou, telling you he’d ordered your favorite dish, and to hurry up or he was going to eat it.</p>
    <p>smiling at his text, you start typing back, “you’re gonna steal my food anyway.”</p>
    <p>too immersed in your phone and his incoming text, you start crossing the street without paying attention.</p>
    <p>you’d done it a million times before, and nothing had happened, so it had become sort of a bad habit.</p>
    <p>(tetsu always made sure to keep a strong arm around your waist when you crossed streets – you never paid attention.)</p>
    <p>this time, though, something does happen. as you’re crossing, you don’t see the out of control car careening on the street to your left.</p>
    <p>there’s a loud screech, rubber tires on road, metal against metal, and the exact minute you look up, the car comes crashing into you.</p>
    <p>there’s a glare of bright white, and you fly on top of the car’s hood, sliding across and falling on the road painfully.</p>
    <p>the phone flies out of your hand.</p>
    <p>a loud ringing fills your ears.</p>
    <p>there’s something sticky on your head, you register vaguely.</p>
    <p>and the last thing you catch a glimpse of, before your vision dims completely, is the red thread that has always been on your left pinky finger, slowly fading with the blurring of your vision.</p>
    <p>
      
    </p>
    <p>eyes fluttering open slowly, you wake up to harsh, fluorescent white lights and the smell of disinfectant. blinking a few times to adjust to the light, you realize that you’re lying in a hospital bed.</p>
    <p>you’re wearing a light green hospital gown, and your body aches all over.</p>
    <p>your right shoulder hurts, and you look at it to see it bandaged up, white covering wrapped around it tightly.</p>
    <p>your scalp feels tight too, and you reach up slowly, groaning at the limp feeling in your arm.</p>
    <p>there’s gauze wrapped around your head too, underneath your clump of messy (h/c) hair.</p>
    <p>you lean back, arm falling to your side, and just stare up at the ceiling for a few minutes.</p>
    <p>sound slowly becomes audible as you lie there – like the feeling one gets after chewing bubblegum during turbulence in an airplane; you hadn’t even realized you couldn’t hear.</p>
    <p>there’s sounds of city life coming from outside the window to your right, but the curtains are closed, so you can’t tell whether it’s daytime or nighttime.</p>
    <p>the sound of soft snores registers, and you look to your left to see a mop of black hair resting in the juncture of folded, tanned arms.</p>
    <p>tetsu is snoring softly beside your bed, head turned away from you.</p>
    <p>you reach out a hand slowly, before retracting it, not wanting to disturb him.</p>
    <p>how long have you been in this hospital…?</p>
    <p>what happened…?</p>
    <p>you close your eyes and rub your temples slowly, and then you remember the flash of white lights and the sound of rubber tires on gravel.</p>
    <p>you’d been in a car accident.</p>
    <p>you groan slowly, the splitting headache that had been muted till then growing stronger.</p>
    <p>sighing, you snuggle back into the pillows you’d been leaning against, in the hopes that relaxing will make the headache subside.</p>
    <p>looking toward tetsurou, you smile a little, watching his head lift and drop back down a little with every breath he takes.</p>
    <p>something about this scenario seems wrong to you. it feels like something’s missing.</p>
    <p>your eyes drift down to tetsu’s fingers from his left hand resting on his right arm.</p>
    <p>and then it hits you.</p>
    <p>there’s no red thread.</p>
    <p>there’s nothing connecting you to him.</p>
    <p>you blink a few times, and rub your eyes wearily.</p>
    <p>nothing.</p>
    <p>panic starts rising.</p>
    <p>you take a deep breath, and shut your eyes, and after counting to ten, open them again.</p>
    <p>still nothing.</p>
    <p>panic wells up and spills over the well you’d been keeping all your emotions in.</p>
    <p>the remaining pain from the car accident, the aching of your limbs, the panic surrounding your missing red thread, the stress from not telling tetsu about it – it all comes spilling out in one big wave.</p>
    <p>tears blur your vision, and you put your hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the panicked sobs that are threatening to escape.</p>
    <p>maybe your worst fears have been confirmed? you’ve <em>always</em> been able to see the red thread, so there has to be some kind of reason why it’s disappeared now.</p>
    <p>your rational thinking is severely compromised right now; instead of thinking logically, your brain is coming up with all the worst-case scenarios that could have caused the thread to disappear.</p>
    <p>maybe the red thread has disappeared because tetsu doesn’t love you anymore, maybe your relationship isn’t meant to last more than what it has, or maybe he has another true soulmate-</p>
    <p>your cries wake him up.</p>
    <p>the bed shifts, and tetsurou sits up, hair mussed, eyes wide, sleep marks imprinted on his face.</p>
    <p>for a minute, he just stares at you blankly as you sniff, trying to breathe properly so you can stop crying.</p>
    <p>and then the sight of you crying registers, and he springs forward, cradling your face in his hands gently, “shh, baby, why are you crying? does it hurt? should I call someone?”</p>
    <p>worried, his amber-hazel eyes are soft and concerned as he thumbs at the wet tear trails on your cheeks, his touch warm.</p>
    <p>the concern in his eyes only makes you cry harder, and his face falls even more as he tries to get you to tell him what’s wrong.</p>
    <p>and then you can’t hold in any longer; the worry on his face, the stress of your secret, it all pushes you over the edge - you no longer care about keeping your secret; the anxiety of him not being your soulmate far outweighing your need for secrecy.</p>
    <p>your hands clutch each other tightly, and you take deep, calming breaths, tetsurou rubbing circles on your cheeks gently.</p>
    <p>your loud sobs die down to loud sniffles.</p>
    <p>“the thread…it’s, it’s gone-”</p>
    <p>tetsurou’s thumbs still in their ministrations and he blinks, confused, “huh?”</p>
    <p>tears well up again, and you look down.</p>
    <p>“you mean this thread?”</p>
    <p>the warmth on your right cheek disappears, and you look up to see tetsurou holding his left hand up, all the fingers curled except the pinkie.</p>
    <p>it’s almost funny how you stop crying immediately, hope making its home at the base of your throat.</p>
    <p>“what?” you whisper, unable to believe what you think he’s insinuating.</p>
    <p>tetsu raises his little finger higher, eyes searching yours, “this red thread from my pinkie to yours?”</p>
    <p>you still, eyes widening hopefully, “if you’re joking right now, I swear to God, tetsu-”</p>
    <p>he laughs, left hand coming to rest on your cheek again as he gently wipes away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.</p>
    <p>“I realized I could see this a few days ago, and I’d been meaning to ask if you’d seen yours, because you never mentioned it-”</p>
    <p>he stops in his explanation when tears trace a way down your face again, the salty liquid damp against his thumbs.</p>
    <p>“hey,” he croons softly, “why are you crying again?”</p>
    <p>laughter bubbles up amidst your tears, and then you’re laughing, tetsurou smiling in equal parts surprise and relief at your change in mood.</p>
    <p>you put your right hand over his left, eyes shining, “we really are soulmates!”</p>
    <p>“yeah.” he grins, leaning forward to deliver a soft kiss to your forehead, “why didn’t you tell me about the red thread though?”</p>
    <p>you look away guiltily, “I was scared. I’d promised myself I’d tell if you if we got past a few dates, but by the time we were a couple, I was in too deep.”</p>
    <p>at your admittance, his eyes soften, amber dissolving amongst the hazel.</p>
    <p>“I didn’t want to tell you because I thought I might lose you. it was stupid, but I thought I wasn’t your actual soulmate, and that you had someone else.”</p>
    <p>heat rises to your cheeks as you mutter, “I didn’t want to share you with someone else…”</p>
    <p>you look back at him tentatively to find him smiling at you warmly, as if the words he’s going to say are going to be incredibly romantic.</p>
    <p>what comes out though, is this: “I get it,” he says, lifting his hands as he smirks at you, “anyone would want to keep this hot piece of ass for themselves.”</p>
    <p>you snort, shaking your head as he rests his hands on your waist, grinning down at you brazenly.</p>
    <p>he’s just about to kiss you when the door slams open, and bokuto practically runs in, a worried expression on his face.</p>
    <p>tetsurou rolls his eyes, and backs off to let bokuto hug you, “way to make an entrance, bokuto.”</p>
    <p>bokuto ignores him for once, surprisingly, scanning over you hurriedly, “(Name), I heard you were hurt, are you okay?? is anything broken?? you were asleep for six hours!”</p>
    <p>you jolt, surprised, “six hours?!”</p>
    <p>bokuto nods sagely, “we were all so worried. mom and auntie and everyone else are going to be here in a few hours too. ‘kaashi’s coming too.”</p>
    <p>you groan, rubbing a hand over your face as tetsurou snickers at you.</p>
    <p>looks like you were going to be in for a lot of mothering and coddling. (especially from akaashi)</p>
    <p>bokuto peers at you closely as you blink up at him innocently. you’re hoping he won’t notice you’ve been crying; and the odds are stacked in your favor, since bokuto, bless his soul, can be more than a little oblivious.</p>
    <p>it seems today is opposite day, because he seesm to notice you’ve been crying almost instantly. he looks toward tetsurou, frowning a little, “bro wth why was she crying?”</p>
    <p>tetsu crosses his arms self-assuredly, smirking, “because she was happy to see my face, duh.”</p>
    <p>you roll your eyes.</p>
    <p>idiot.</p>
    <p>bokuto frowns a little more, and tetsurou holds up his hands, “wait, I really had nothing to do with her crying-”</p>
    <p>“I’m fine, bo.” you laugh, curling an arm around his.</p>
    <p>he grins, perking up immediately, frown disappearing instantaneously.</p>
    <p>tetsu rubs his chin, looking at bokuto as if he’s seeing him for the first time, “damn, bro, you’re not as fluffy as you look.”</p>
    <p>bokuto puffs up his chest, “you know, bro, a man’s gotta be a man.”</p>
    <p>tetsu nods sagely, “bro, I <em>know</em>. 110% agree with you-”</p>
    <p>you interrupt their little “bro moment”, tone of voice incredulous, “um, crying person here, if you guys wouldn’t mind passing a tissue…?”</p>
    <p>bokuto and tetsurou chuckle as you shake your head fondly, bokuto settling into the chair tetsurou was on as tetsu grabbed the tissue from the table a few feet away.</p>
    <p>you shift a little to the left to make space for tetsu, who slips you the tissue and then slides into bed with you, one arm going behind you so you can rest against it comfortably.</p>
    <p>you close your eyes as tetsurou kisses your hair, “go to sleep, baby. we’ll be right here.”</p>
    <p>bokuto hums loudly in agreement before engaging tetsurou in some sort of discussion about volleyball and beer pong.</p>
    <p>oh God, you hoped they wouldn’t combine the two.</p>
    <p>sighing fondly, you snuggle into tetsurou’s side, his arm tightening around you comfortably, as he drops yet another kiss onto your hair.</p>
    <p>it didn’t matter that you couldn’t see your thread. maybe you couldn’t see it because of the car accident, maybe you couldn’t see it because of other reasons.</p>
    <p>you think you would have been fine even without the knowledge of the red thread. looking back on it, you realize you would have ended up telling kuroo at some point, and even with the knowledge that he might not be your soulmate, you’d loved him.</p>
    <p>you still do.</p>
    <p>so for now it doesn’t matter.</p>
    <p>later, you know you and tetsu will talk about this.</p>
    <p>but it will be fine.</p>
    <p>because you know he’s yours as much as you are his.</p>
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